


Winner Takes All

by romanticalgirl



Category: British Actor RPF, Hornblower RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-12-05 01:10:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/717140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He who dies with the most toys still dies</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winner Takes All

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 3-22-07

Ioan’s a competitive little bastard, Paul has to give him that. To hear Bamber tell it, it wasn’t always like that – bloke was shy as can be on the first shoot, but things have happened, notice has been paid and so he’s a little cockier this time ‘round. The smile that Bamber says it with tells Paul that more than Ioan’s attitude has changed, and he’s not surprised. He’d shag both of them if he were stupid enough or high enough to do so, and he’s playing it straight – in more ways than one – on this shoot, so that’s rather out of the question.

But other things aren’t, so Paul challenges Ioan every chance he gets. Who can drink the most, who can get through the script fastest. Gruffudd’s a good loser and a decent winner, so it’s easy enough to a game of cards or a game of darts, to a drinking contest or who can pull the wildest prank. Ioan won that one when Jamie rode back from the hotel in the trunk of a cab, completely starkers, though things were a bit strained on the set until the two of them made up.

Which is why Paul’s sitting in the pub tonight watching Ioan from across the room. Ioan and Bamber shot their last scene together and Jamie’d headed home on a plane that afternoon. Telling himself it was for Ioan’s own good was almost believable, or would be, if he didn’t know himself quite so well.

“What do you say, Gruffudd?” He slides into the booth across from Ioan, bringing a fresh pint for each of them. He sets the glass in front of Ioan and raises his own.

“Not tonight, Paul.”

“C’mon, Mate.” Paul taps his glass lightly against Ioan’s. “To Jamie. Bloke at least deserves us to raise a glass for him.”

Ioan shifts uncomfortably, but raises his glass nonetheless. “To Jamie.”

“Sodding lucky bastard not to have to put up with your snoring anymore.”

Ioan nearly chokes on his ale. “I don’t snore!”

“Not what the ladies say. Or is that you’re just a bit of a snore in the sack?”

“You talk to the girls I’ve slept with, have you? Living vicariously now, Paulie-boy?”

Paul knows he’s got him hooked now by the bright flash in Ioan’s eyes, the daring tilt to his jaw. There’s a fuck lot of Hornblower in the boy. “Have to find out what all you do wrong so I can do them up proper.”

“Taking seconds, are you?”

“Like to think you’re the appetizer, lad. Not quite a real meal. Don’t sate the appetite like the entrée.”

“And that’s you, is it?”

“Certainly more meat on my bones.”

Ioan takes a drink, but his eyes speak volumes as they run across Paul’s chest and shoulders. “Gristled meat on old bones.”

Paul laughs and leans in. “You’ll pay for that one, Gruffudd.”

“Will I.”

It’s not a question, and Paul feels a shudder of heat sing along his nerves. “You up for a dare, Ioan, my lad? Last challenge?”

“The last.” A strange look crosses Ioan’s face, and Paul feels it keenly for a moment. Whatever the fate of Hornblower, it’s Ioan’s alone now, and whatever the fate of Ioan and Jamie, they’ve no longer got this.

“Until next time you desperately need your arse handed to you on a platter.”

“All right.” Ioan drains the rest of his beer in one go and slams the glass back on the table. “You’re on.”

**

She’s fucking gorgeous and she’s looking right through him. Paul’s still got a smile on though, because Ioan’s nearly drunk enough that it’s not going to matter much in the end. She delivers the last round of drinks and Ioan tugs her into his lap. Her dark eyes are bright with amusement and hot with something else. “You wanted something, Sir?” Her voice has a light hint of an accent, a throaty sound that’s enough to make Paul’s prick stand at attention, and she’s not even on his bloody lap.

“My friend here.” Ioan pauses to sip his drink, always the gentleman as he offers her a sip as well. “My friend here as bet me that I can’t get you to come outside with me.”

“And you think your friend is wrong?”

“I do.”

“And why would you think he is wrong?”

“Because.” Ioan slides a slow hand up her thigh, his long fingers grazing her skin. “You want to come outside with me. You’re curious.”

“Curiosity killed the cat they say.”

Ioan leans in and licks his lips, the sensation of his breath causing her to shiver. “Promise I won’t hurt the pussy.”

She laughs and it’s huskier than her voice. “Will your friend come outside with us?”

Ioan looks at Paul, obviously surprised by the question, but just as obviously not bothered. “Would you like him to?”

The girl tilts her head and looks at Paul for a long moment, sizing him up with a smile. “Does he like to watch?”

Paul reaches over and trails a finger down her arm then pulls back, his fingers grazing Ioan’s hand where it’s curled around his glass. “Don’t just have to watch.”

The girl smiles and Paul watches Ioan carefully to see if he’s played his hand too soon, but the slow burn of heat that melts in Gruffudd’s eyes lets him know he’s got him right where he wants him…or close enough to it for the moment. Paul slides out of the booth, tossing back the last round of shots sitting on the table. Ioan follows his lead, guiding the girl off his lap with more hands than are strictly necessary, but Paul figures between drunk and horny, he ought to cut the poor bastard a bit of slack.

Again, for the moment.

**

It’s not that he pre-arranges things, or that he’s got some sense of how it’ll all play out. He just knows how to read people and things seem to fall into line for him. He wishes it worked in ways other than sex – like in relationships and work and life in general, but it’s just this, and he’ll take it as it comes. He certainly didn’t suggest she sink down to her knees and strip Ioan’s prick out and start sucking on it like a new stick of candy, but he’s not going to stop her if that’s her bent.

And he doubts Ioan’s got half a mind to protest if the sounds he’s trying to keep locked in his throat are any indication. Paul watches for a moment and then shakes his head. The alley behind the bar is relatively dark and it’s late on a Sunday, so all the good folks are likely in bed. And really, when it comes down to it, they’re all consenting adults. Admittedly, most consenting adults around here probably aren’t having something like a threesome in a back alley, but Paul’s motto’s always been ‘live and let live’, so he figures they’ve really no right to complain.

Besides, not really a threesome yet.

He moves behind Ioan, listening to the soft sounds the lad’s doing his best not to make. He’s failing spectacularly, but they’re bloody gorgeous sounds, deep and throaty and hungry and you can tell she’s appreciating his interest. Even more interesting to Paul, of course, is the effect those noises are having on him. Not that he needs much incentive at this point, really, but the fact that Ioan’s so obviously enjoying himself certainly doesn’t hurt in the slightest.

Resting his hand on Ioan’s hip, he tugs his jeans down lower, exposing him to the heavy night air. Ioan groans again and sways back against Paul’s hand, the slightly hint of pressure before he thrusts forward again into the girl’s mouth. It’s all the invitation Paul needs, and he wrangles the supplies he’s brought with him out of his jacket pocket. His mum used to joke that they’d beg from Peter to pay Paul, but Paul’d have it all saved up. He’s always prepared in any case, and this one’s no exception to the rule.

He stays to the side a bit and watches as his fingers breach Ioan’s flesh. Ioan’s mouth falls open and he moans softly, eyes closing. His face is expressive, but not as much as that sinful mouth, so Paul watches as Ioan licks and bites his lips, wicked sounds slipping past. It’s enough to push Paul past his limit and he moves behind Ioan and is inside him in short order. He buries himself and stills, soaking in the moment.

Ioan’s exactly as he imagined, too thin and yet filling out, still all arms and legs but wiry, no weight to him at all, especially compared to Paul’s relative bulk. He’s tight and hot as he takes Paul inside him, muscles clenching tight as he leans back, skin shimmering with sweat in the faint light of the moon.

The girl catches Ioan’s attention again and he groans, his body tightening further. Paul rides it out and then starts moving, thrusting hard and deliberate, reaching around Ioan to brace himself on the wall. They move in a strange sort of tandem, a tug of war with Ioan as prize, though the girl’s hand creeps past Ioan’s hip and scores Paul’s, her nails digging into his skin. He jerks forward in response and Ioan shudders, gasping Paul’s name beneath his breath.

Paul groans and increases his pace, needing this now, not sure when he stopped being player and started being pawn, but he can feel it as Ioan’s body contracts around him again, feels the shudders that course through him in the instant before he comes. He can feel the jerks of Ioan’s hips as the girl sucks him off, can almost hear Ioan’s desperate gasps past the blood pounding in his ears, but then he can’t hear anything as he comes as well, body hard against Ioan’s, pushing him in toward the wall.

They stay like that for a long moment until the girl gets to her feet, shaking her head and smirking at them. Ioan reaches out to her, but she dances out of his grip and turns, her hips and skirt swaying as she heads back toward the bar. Paul huffs out a laugh against Ioan’s neck, feeling him shiver.

“I won, you know.”

“Did you?” Paul asks softly. “Don’t think so, mate.”

“She came outside.”

“You came outside. I came outside.” Paul laughs, easing away from him, inordinately glad that, for whatever reason, this seems as if it’s going to be all right. “As I see it, Ioan, she didn’t come at all.”  



End file.
